


Gray Day

by FanGirlofManyThings



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: But thoughts about drugs and using, Gen, Not use, Reid centric, Reid is having a sad day and the team wants to help, TW: drug reference, sad day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 18:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanGirlofManyThings/pseuds/FanGirlofManyThings
Summary: Reid wakes up feeling miserable and it doesn't take a team of highly trained profilers to tell. They all have there own way of helping their resident genius.*set anytime after Rossi joins the BAU but before Emily leaves*





	Gray Day

As soon as Reid’s feet hit the floor he knew it was going to be one of those days. The kind of day where nothing makes you feel happy. The whole day spent in a gray haze of melancholy. Something about melancholy was so heavy, heavy in way that emotion just shouldn’t be.

On days like this the faint pull to use again, just a little so that he could float away from his troubles. But the pull was weak today, it was stronger after a tough case. It was easy to push to the back of his mind but he would have to do it continuously, all day. It had been sometime since had to actively push down the desire for a full day.

One hand scrubbed down his face as the other fumbled blindly at the screaming alarm clock. He had days like this once in a blue moon; even before he had joined the B.A.U.. There was no triggering event; he just woke up feeling sad. A long sigh escaped his lips as he finally silenced the alarm clock.

Reid hoped, more than he usually did, that they didn’t have a case today. On days like this it was always easier to get lost in the back log of paperwork than to interact with people. Paperwork didn’t expect an emotional reaction.  
***  
As the elevator doors opened, Reid hitched his messenger bag up his shoulder and took a fortifying breath. The trudge to his desk was done on autopilot, the path well memorized long ago. His eyes never left his beat-up sneakers; people passed by in a haze. Someone said ‘Good Morning’. Reid’s response was a grunt that could have been a greeting if the person wasn’t really listening. 

Reid dropped his bag on the floor as he slumped into his chair. He resisted the childish impulse to put his head on his desk and block out the world with his arms. As nice as the darkness would feel, the pull would be stronger without any external stimuli. 

He did however allow himself a few minutes to stare blankly at his computer’s desktop. The sounds of the office washed over him, it was soothing in a way. A gentle reminder that he wasn’t alone. 

After the time he had allotted was up he mustered the energy to open his Bureau email. Somehow, he couldn’t find in himself to move much quicker than the average snail and the process of opening the email server and logging in took almost double its usual time.

The first email caused his mood to sour even further. His bi-annual gun permit recertification had been schedualed for next week. While he had gotten much more accurate over the years, being tested still gave him a twist of anxiety deep in his gut. He closed out the email server without reading anything else. Memos would have to wait.

He bit back a sigh and resisted the urge to grind the heels of his hands into his eyes. He refused to show weakness at work. He was tired of the while team treating him like a kid. Somehow his team, full of overprotective individuals, had gifted him the titled of baby brother. And he got all the fun perks that came with it, like being watched constantly for signs of emotional distress.

Reid pulled the first file off the stack of identical manila folders in the corner of his desk. The act of opening the file, however, was stopped by a mug of sweet smelling coffee placed on top of it.

Glancing up, Reid found Morgan looking down at him, cup of coffee in hand. Cream, 2 sugars; that’s how Morgan took his coffee. Reid’s own mug was full with black coffee and, Reid knew without tasting, 7 large spoonfuls of sugar. Late nights and early mornings meant they had all memorized each other’s coffee habits long ago.

Morgan smiled softly, eyes crinkling at the edges. He took a long sip from his mug. As he pulled it from his lip he used the mug to gesture at the one he had set in front of Reid.

“I didn’t poison it, ya know?” Morgan said with a chuckle.

Reid wrapped his long finger’s around the mug, more clutching at it than holding it. He hadn’t realized how cold he was until the warmth met his skin. He savored the feeling as he brought the mug to his lips. His eyes slipped closed, unbidden, as the coffee trickled down his throat. The warmth radiated outwards through his whole body making him curl his toes a little. 

Reid opened his eyes to find Morgan still watching him. Reid’s eyes flicked back down to his coffee. Maybe, hovering was a better word for what Morgan was doing right now. Reid could feel his eyes on him even as he stared into the abyss that was his coffee.

“Thank you,” He mumbled belatedly.

“You looked like you could use it, Pretty Boy,” Morgan said. “Long night?”

Reid cleared his throat, “S-something like that…yeah.” Morgan frowned a little at that.

“You wanna talk about it?” The sincerity in Morgan’s voice hurt a little.

Reid almost wished he had something to tell him but ‘I just woke up sad’ wasn’t exactly what Morgan was expecting. And opening that particular can of worms had the potential of becoming a messy, awkward, emotional conversation. Neither of them wanted that, so Reid figured he would spare them both.

“It’s nothing serious,” Reid tried to smile convincingly but he could tell it was too strained, too thin. Morgan’s frown deepened a little.

“Alright,” Morgan patted his shoulder. “You know where to find me if anything changes.”

Reid smiled again, this time a little less forced and turned back to his file as Morgan sat down at his desk. He didn’t get any further than opening the file and glancing at the first line before Emily entered the bullpen.

“Hotch needs us at the round table,” She announced. 

Reid bit back another sigh as he hauled himself to his feet, coffee in hand.  
***  
46 minutes and 27 seconds after Emily came into the bullpen Reid found himself boarding the jet. As he climbed the stairs, he swore to himself he would never give the universe the opportunity to screw him over like this again. Obviously, it took a perverse pleasure in seeing him suffer.

Reid lowered himself into one of the seats at the small table. The urge to flop on the couch and sleep for the whole flight was very strong. Maybe a nap would knock this funk out of him; unfortunately, there was no time to test that theory. 

He watched as the team shuffled around, getting settled. Hotch put a large stack of files on the table. Reid slid the top most file towards himself and flipped it open. While it wasn’t the absolute mindlessness of filling out paperwork but there was something soothing about finding the right pieces to a pattern. And this case had more than enough geographical data points to make a geographical profile a useful tool. 

The lack of physical evidence meant there was an 86% chance Reid would get assigned exclusively to the geographical profile. Of course, that remaining 14% chance was still there. Sometimes Hotch felt the need to force Reid out of his comfort zone and interact with victim’s families and LEOs. Reid was absolutely positive he could not handle that today. He couldn’t even manage his own emotions, how was he supposed to handle someone else’s?

The discussion about the case passed mostly as it usually would. Mostly, because Reid could feel eyes watching him for the entire meeting. Specifically, Hotch’s eyes were analyzing him. Following his every move and most likely cataloguing every micro-expression. They always told each other that they didn’t profile anyone on the team but it was a nice lie they told each other. Helped keep the peace between them. Made working with each other easier too; hard to relax when it feels like everyone is watching your every move.

Currently sitting under Hotch’s scrutiny was putting Reid on edge. He was fighting the urge to squirm in his seat as the discussion dragged on. But try as he might Reid was not sure he was doing such a good job of faking normal. It felt too hard to smile or let his mouth run off on a tangent of thoughts no one really wanted to hear. 

He felt weighed down and it was so, so easy just to let it drag him down. To get pulled into that dark pit of melancholy and self-pity. He knew there was nothing good down there but the sadness made it seem so comforting. 

“Alright when we get their Morgan and Prentiss I want you to visit the dump sites. Rossi and J.J. I need you to talk to the victim’s families. Reid, I want you to come to the police station with me and get started on the geographical profile,” Hotch’s voice dragged Reid back to earth. Hotch flipped his case file closed ending the discussion. Which had been going in a circle for the last ten minutes anyway. 

As the rest of the team shuffled papers into folders, Reid stared diligently at the file in front of him. It was a list of dump sites and abduction sites but he really wasn’t seeing the information in front of him, let alone analyzing it for anything useful. 

Reid felt the eyes on him and glanced up to find Hotch still watching him. Hotch smiled softly when Reid caught his eye. Reid ducked his head, letting his hair fall over his eyes. But something about that smile made the weight that was pressing down on him lift a little. Not anywhere near gone but not quite so heavy on his shoulders any more.  
***  
Forty-five minutes and 23 seconds after Hotch had disbanded the meeting Reid felt a body slide into the seat next to him accompanied by the sound of a mug being placed on the table. He briefly glanced away from the window he’d been brooding out of as J.J. slid her own mug of tea next to the one she had just set in front of him. He turned back to his window. Unlike Hotch and Morgan there was a very small chance that J.J. would let him hide.

Reid kept himself turned away from J.J.; there was a chance that closed off body language would keep her from prying. He wished sleep had not eluded him. The urge had been so strong when he had first boarded but given the chance, his thoughts would not stop swirling long enough to allow it. The way she was shifting, her foot resting against his and her shoulder pressed against his, told Reid she clearly wasn’t going to let this go. 

Thirty-seven seconds, that was how long J.J. was willing to let him brood while she sat next to him. After that her shifting gained an impatient feeling to it. Reid picked up the mug of tea and held it close to his face. The warm vapors playing over his face, the peppermint scent was soothing.

“Spence,” J.J. prodded gently. She kept her voice low. Reid was grateful she was not going to try and drag the whole team into this. They were very good at ganging up on a person and Reid did not think he could handle feeling trapped right now. No matter how good the intentions of the trappers were.

Reid sighed and turned away from the window. Not necessarily facing J. J. but no longer closing her out. She shifted again, turning her torso so she could look him in one eye. He found he missed the warmth of her shoulder pressed against him. Reid lowered the mug away from his face, resting his wrists on the edge of the table.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong?” She asked softly. She was looking at him with an intense, motherly concern. That same almost guilt washed over him again, same as it had with Morgan. It really would be easier if something actually was wrong. 

“Not really,” He told the chair across from him. J.J. set her mug down gently. She laid a hand on his forearm. It was a good replacement for the loss of her shoulder. It gave him something to focus on outside of the swirling thoughts in his head. 

“Spence, please,” She pleaded slightly. “I just want to help you.”

Reid’s answer was a whisper, “I know.”

“Then why won’t you let me?” She asked. Her fingers were now rubbing a gentle pattern. It was soothing. He focused all his attention on the feeling of her fingers running across his skin. It was grounding and he needed something grounding right now.

His answer to her question was a small shrug of his shoulders. There was nothing he could verbalize that would satisfy her. She made a small noise of frustration, not a truly unhappy one, but it was clear his lack of response was bothering him. 

“Is…is this about a case?” Her voice was hesitant. He shook his head, words seemed out of reach at the moment. 

“Do you need to call your sponsor?” Her voice was barley audible. 

“No,” His voice came out louder and more forceful than he intended. “No, it’s not like that. I promise.” He looked her in the eye for the first time since she sat down. She nodded once but didn’t say anything. Reid was grateful for that, it was still too hard to talk about that particular part of his life. But what he told J.J. was true, he wasn’t truly craving right now. Sadness did bring the idea out of the small place in his mind it had been relegated to but he didn’t feel the driving need that craving brought. He only felt that when something much darker than sadness swam through his mind. 

She kept her hand on his arm for a little while longer but she didn’t say anything more. Reid was thankful for that. He was dangerously close to opening up to her. 

The problem was, that the ‘what’ was a whole lot of nothing. And J.J. had a tendency towards mothering. Usually, Reid had no problem with her way of comforting others but today it felt like too much. He didn’t think he could handle the shame of crying in front of the whole team simply because J.J. was nice to him. 

They sat like that in silence for a while. Reid forced himself not to count the seconds as they ticked by. Instead he allowed himself simply to be in the moment; to feel J.J.’s presence in his life.

Then she patted his arm and picked up her tea, “You know where to find me.” 

Reid gave her a small smile and took a sip of his tea. He turned back to the window as J.J. made herself comfortable next to Emily on the couch.  
***  
Almost an hour to the second after J.J. fell asleep, Rossi slipped into the seat across from Reid. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Rossi held up the book of crosswords as way of explanation. The rest of the team had dimmed the lights and was trying to catch a few hours rest before they landed. They almost never got enough sleep when they were working a case. They all took it where they could get it.

Reid made a noise of understanding and returned to his window. He was still feeling moody and Rossi was not likely to push it. There was a strong possibility Rossi genuinely couldn’t sleep and needed a table for his crossword. There was the added bonus that with Reid being the only other person still awake, the light over the table was still on. 

For a short while the only sound in the plane was the team’s gentle breathing and the occasional scratch of Rossi’s pencil. Reid’s fingers played idly with the cup on the table. Pushing it around and spinning it.

“What’s a five-letter word for degrade?” Rossi asked, attention focused on the crossword in front of him.

“Abase,” Reid answered almost automatically. He didn’t even look up from the window. Rossi made a small noise of disbelief but then there was the scratching of pencil on paper. 

That was how Reid and Rossi passed the rest of the plane ride. A comfortable silence between them, except when Rossi asked for help with a crossword clue. Reid counted the seconds between questions, keeping an average in his head. It was more something to keep his mind occupied then anything. Something to keep the pull from becoming too strong.

Rossi never said anything that wasn’t a crossword clue and Reid never said anything that wasn’t the answer to that question. As far as knew Reid, he was never wrong because Rossi never asked the same question twice. 

Reid was thankful that Rossi was not prone to prying because as much as Reid loved this team he was not interested in discussing his seemingly random emotional break. Especially not in the middle of a case.

But still Rossi’s form of comfort was not without its own merit. It did seem to have, what Reid was assuming to be, the intended effect of keeping him from falling too deep into his own head. Having to surface every few minutes to answer a linguistics question prevented him from following dark trains too far.  
***  
It was now four hours and nineteen minutes since they had landed and Reid was now feeling both sleep deprived and moody. It was not a very good combination and it was definitely affecting his ability to concentrate. He was fairly sure he had also flubbed some standard politeness when greeting the local LEOs.

Currently he was holed up in the back corner of the conference room that had been set aside for the B.A.U. to work in. He was attempting to make sense of the multitude of geographical points related to this case. In addition to abduction sites there was an average of three dump sites per victim as this unsub had the proclivity for dismembering his victims. And they still didn’t have all the body parts for even one victim. 

The original hope had been that the excess of points would make it easier to track down the unsub. However currently all it was doing was giving Reid a headache. Not one of his migraines but a head spinning headache none the less. 

Once again, the urge to lay his head on the desk and sleep was overwhelming. He shook his head in an attempt to bring his thoughts back. He looked back down at the map he was making. There were colored marks all over the map, some as close as two miles from each other and others as far as twenty. It was a scattered mess with no discernable pattern. Yet everything else about this unsub was organized so there had to be some level of organization in the dump sites as well.

This unsub’s proclivity for appearing disorganized might have been a tantalizing puzzle any other day; today, however it was a distressing mess. Reid’s mind simply wasn’t in the right place for this. The haze of sadness was difficult to see through. Having to fight the pull wasn’t helping his ability to concentrate either.

Reid brought his hands up to cover his face, massaging the skin on his face. The motion was slightly soothing but the darkness felt better. It called him to sleep; Reid really wished he could sleep right now. Either that or some mind-numbing paperwork. Thinking around the fog of sadness was just a little too difficult.

The sound of the door opening and closing roused Reid slightly. Prentiss was holding a brown paper bag which she placed on top of Reid’s map as she sat down across from him. He was thankful the bag wasn’t greasy. 

“I figured you could use some food,” Prentiss said as she rummaged around in the bag. She pulled out a fist full of napkins, which she tossed loosely among his papers and files. She dove back in and came out with two parchment wrapped sandwiches. 

“Locals said this place makes the best subs,” She placed one in front of him, pushing some of his markers out of the way. 

“Thanks,” Reid muttered as he started opening his sub. His stomach was suddenly reminding him how empty it was. He struggled to remember the last time he had ingested something solid. It was possible he had made some toast before heading to work that morning. Of course, that had been multiple hours ago at this point. If he had even eaten the toast at all.

“No problem,” Prentiss waved off his thanks. “I figured there was a good chance you had forgotten to eat.”

“Am I that obvious?” Reid asked a little sadly.

“For someone from Las Vegas, you don’t have a very good poker face,” Emily said kindly. 

“Oh,” Was all Reid could say. It felt like he was never going to escape the team’s need to protect him. Even from something as simple as his own emotions. 

“Everyone has off days,” She finished her sentence with a bite of her sandwich and a wave of her hand. Reid said nothing, mainly because there was nothing to discuss. He really had no desire to have a messy conversation about emotions, specifically his. 

Prentiss let him have his silence for the amount of time it took to eat half a sub. Reid noticed after that she was watching him. And she didn’t pick up the other half of her sub. She wanted him to open up to her. Problem was there was nothing impressive to divulge. 

“It’s nothing important,” She gave him an unimpressed look. “Honest.”

“But you’d tell me if it was?” Prentiss gave him a pleading look.

Reid squirmed a little under her gaze. He really wished he could make that promise. But he knew himself just a little to well to lie to her like that. She didn’t deserve that. He chose to remain silent, admitting his shortcomings wasn’t exactly pleasant. 

“Reid, you know we all care about you?” She asked gently. 

“Y-yes,” The break in his voice caused his cheeks to flush lightly.

“Good,” Prentiss said firmly, patting his shoulder. “You can come to any of us, anytime, no matter how big or small the problem.”

Reid nodded and that seemed good enough for Prentiss because she nodded back with a smile and said nothing else. She wrapped up the second half of her sub and left the room.  
***  
Nine minutes and twenty-four seconds after Prentiss had left him his phone rang. It drew his attention away from the map he had been staring at. Slowly things were starting to feel like there was a pattern. But the melancholy that settled in his mind was preventing him from seeing it fully. It felt like the pattern was taunting him, like it was just out of reach.

“Hey, Garcia,” Reid tried to keep his voice steady. But a nagging voice in the back of his brain was telling him he wasn’t faking normalcy very well. Something Garcia was sure to notice.

“Hey yourself Baby Genius,” Garcia chirped from the other side of the line. She seemed her usual peppy self.

“What can I do for you?” He asked a little flat even to his own ears. 

“It’s more what I can do for you,” Reid could almost see the flourish of her pen. When Reid didn’t answer she continued in a more business-like fashion, a sure sign that she wasn’t calling with the best news.

“Hotch asked me to relay a few things to you. Well specifically the locations of a few things and even more specifically the locations of body parts for victims two, four and five.” Reid almost groaned, he wasn’t sure if more locations were a blessing or a curse at this point.

But he picked up his pencil and shuffled the map a little closer to himself, “Give them to me, Garcia.”

“Okay, we’ve got a left foot from victim number two in a ditch off route 2, victim number four’s right arm was found in the southeast quadrant of Bryant Park and the lower half of victim number five’s left leg was found behind a dumpster on Washington Ave.” Reid marked down each body part, victim number and location as she went. 

“Thanks, Garcia,” Reid muttered as he placed the last marker. This unsub’s disorganization was the current bane of his existence. The technical problem was not the unsub’s disorganization but the carefully crafted appearance of disorganization. Organized, disorganization could be a very effective tool for keeping the police off your tail. This unsub was wielding that idea with extreme precision. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Her voice carried concern. If she was in front of him, her eyebrows would probably furrow as she touched him lightly on the shoulder.

“Hmm, oh, oh yeah. I’m fine,” Reid muttered, he was distracted by the new patterns emerging. 

“Okay sure. I’m going to let that slide for now because we’re working on a case but we’re so going for drinks when you get back to D.C.,” And with that Garcia hung up leaving no room, or time, for argument.

Reid set Garcia’s comment on the back burner and tried to find the pattern in the points on the map. He could find the beginning of a pattern but all too quickly one of the other points broke that pattern. He would have to throw that theory out and begin again. 

Then his phone beeped, alerting him to a new email. He flicked his pen down on to the table in frustration. He picked up the phone and thumbed open his email. The new message was from Garcia and she had attached a file as well.

_Hey! Study Break Time! I found this article about Kirk vs. Picard on a Star Trek fansite. I think you’ll appreciated the research that went into it. Personally, though I feel like they came to a forced conclusion. The evidence they use in paragraph 2 is subjective at best. Let me know what you think!_

Reid smiled to himself, Garcia typed exactly like she spoke. While he would have preferred a printed copy of the article it was a quick enough read even on his tiny phone screen. It was a very well put together article, theories supported by evidence found in both shows. However, Reid could see the flaws in the logic and that the author was clearly leaving evidence out to fit his ideals. Off hand Reid could think of three counterarguments to the conclusion the article drew.

But it was also an effective break from the geographical profile. Gave him a momentary distraction from the frustration he was feeling. Garcia always did know how to drag him out of his own head. And she had a point, taking a moment to think about something else might give him some clarity when he returned to the profile.

With that thought in mind he set about composing a response to Garcia. Mostly that they would need to discuss the article in detail when this case was closed, but he did give her a basic overview of his thoughts.  
***  
That night as Reid finally sunk into his hotel bed he didn’t feel nearly has heavy as he had when he’d awoken that morning. The sadness wasn’t lifted entirely but he didn’t feel like he was shouldering it alone. He no longer felt as though the sadness was weighing down. The idea of using was almost entirely back where it belonged. Back in the small corner of his mind that it usually occupied.

After his Garcia enforced ‘study break’, a few more of the puzzle pieces had fallen into place. The others had brought back a few more clues to the conundrum as well. They hadn’t zeroed in on the unsub yet but they had constructed a decent profile.

Sleep was pulling at his eyes now, slowing his thoughts and his breathing. He let it drag him down, this was kinder than what the sadness had been doing. It was softer and warmer, it felt like a much needed hug from a very dear person.

Tomorrow would be a better day and if it wasn’t he knew where he could turn to.


End file.
